A Phone Call
by Anastasia1
Summary: Post mid S6, AU. Buffy makes a transAtlantic phone call. Buffy/Spike of course.


Title: A Phone Call  
  
Author: Anastasia  
  
Spoilers: Umm, none really, post mid S6.  
  
Disclaimer:  
  
I own nothing, nada. So be nice M.E. and share your toys, I promise I won't break them.  
  
Feedback: sure, be nice tho', or I'll cry.  
  
Summary: Buffy really needs to make a phone call, but she keeps putting it off. It's not going to be an easy conversation…  
  
Note: *…* indicates thought.  
  
  
  
***************  
  
  
  
Buffy lifted the phone off its hook and placed it on the kitchen island table. She stared at it for a moment. Her hand hovered above it as she was gripped by indecision.  
  
"You know, most people find dialling the number helps, pet."  
  
Buffy flashed him a glare. "I'm just building myself up to it, 'k?"  
  
"Bollocks. You've been doing that for days. You should just get it over and done with." Said Spike with more than a hint of impatience.  
  
  
  
*She's getting herself more and more wound up about this. It's ridiculous. It's not good for her. He'll probably make her more worried than she is already. There's no need to worry. I'm sure. Maybe if the watcher could shed some light on things though…*  
  
  
  
Buffy picked up the phone. Put it down again. Picked it up. Stared at the keypad for a moment, then pulled her address book closer to get the number.  
  
*Okay, right. Deep breath. I can do this. Spike's right; there's probl'y nothing to worry about. Well okay maybe some stuff but…Okay, doing this now. Oh god, he's so gonna wig out on me…*  
  
  
  
Buffy got halfway though dialling the number then stopped and cut it off. Spike rolled his eyes. Buffy shook her head and started dialling again.  
  
*Resolve face, Buffy. I can do this.*  
  
She pressed the last number and held the phone to her ear. It rang once. Resolve face disappeared and Buffy hurriedly hung up.  
  
*Okay, not resolved. Pathetic.*  
  
Spike took a deep unnecessary breath. *We're going be here all day!*  
  
"Bleeding hell, woman! Do you want me to do it?"  
  
"No," she took a step away from him. "I'm doing it, okay?"  
  
She set her shoulders and dialled the number quickly before she could change her mind again. It started ringing.  
  
  
  
*************************  
  
  
  
On the other side of the Atlantic, a phone started ringing. Rupert Giles stirred in his sleep, opened his eyes blearily then reached for his spectacles on the nightstand and made his way to the phone in his lounge.  
  
*Christ, what time is it?*  
  
He looked at the clock on the wall as he fumbled for the light switch.  
  
*Bloody hell, half past four! Who the hell would be ringing me up at half past four in the morning?*  
  
It was a fairly short list.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
  
  
*************************  
  
  
  
Buffy had been on the point of hanging up again.  
  
*Maybe he's out.*  
  
Suddenly she heard a groggy voice on the other end of the line.  
  
*Oh shit, what time is it over there?*  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
Buffy screwed up her face, all resolve having evaporated the instant she heard his voice. She thrust the phone at Spike and scuttled across the room towards the sink.  
  
Spike looked at the phone in his hand for a second. Looked at Buffy and sighed. Women.  
  
"I'll do the talking then shall I?" He deadpanned.  
  
  
  
*Bugger it, might as well get right to it I s'ppose, price of transatlantic phone calls an' all…*  
  
Spike launched in with (Buffy thought) a distinctly inappropriate cheerfulness.  
  
"Rupert, how's tricks? Good. Right, thing is, you know with the claiming……Uh huh, yeah well, seems that along with everything else a few things got…transferred…Like characteristics," *among other things,* "…No both of us……Yeah well I didn't know that……no, I…"  
  
  
  
*************************  
  
Giles had woken up very quicky.  
  
*************************  
  
  
  
A look of annoyance crossed Spike's face; he held the phone in Buffy's direction. "Blimey, you 'ave a go love…"  
  
"Uh uh, no way," she mouthed stepping backwards across the kitchen.  
  
Spike shook his head in despair. Honestly…  
  
"Yeah I'm still here……Well if you'd just listen for a minute."  
  
He proceeded to list the 'characteristic' changes that had apparently transferred during the claiming:  
  
The closeness of minds,  
  
"No, not exactly mind reading as such…"  
  
  
  
The heightened awareness of pain and distress in one another.  
  
"Yeah well that was what I was trying to say, see I was right on the other side of the cemetery at the time…"  
  
  
  
The way Buffy's night vision seemed to have improved. The way she could definitely pick up the scent of things in a way she could never previously do so.  
  
  
  
The way he could sense the presence of other vampires, sense danger generally in an almost tangible form.  
  
  
  
The way he could stand sunlight. Only in its weakest forms, but nevertheless: cloudy days, sunset and sunrise, rays sneaking past a not properly drawn blind.  
  
"Yeah, mate I thought so too. Bloody amazing! I dunno, if it gets too bright I can feel it before I'm in trouble……Umm yeah I guess like sunburn." Not that he could remember what that was like.  
  
"Well it was by accident actually, didn't realise what time it had got to……No but it's a hell of a lot for me. Been some time since I watched the sun come up I can tell you……Yeah well apparently its starting to loose its charm for her……No well that's what I thought, but she just wouldn't listen……No, I know Manchester's a lovely place but the b, woman, is stuck on sunny ol' Sunnydale." Buffy stuck out her tongue at him across the room. He returned the gesture.  
  
  
  
"Anything else? Hmm…" He looked at Buffy inquiringly. *Are you sure you want me to?*  
  
*He's gonna freak!* Her face looked contorted.  
  
Spike covered the mouthpiece of the phone. "Okay, so is that a yes or a no, 'cos I know I said about the mind reading thing, but if you can't decide…"  
  
Buffy closed her eyes, nodded mutely.  
  
  
  
"Right, hmm, yeah there was something else……No it's Buffy……Well it's a matter of opinion…see I've noticed and its been confirmed by others that I'm not imagining things, despite suggestions to the contrary." He arched an eyebrow at Buffy.  
  
"That her eyes, well, flash, when she gets all worked up…yeah like annoyed, or angry…" *or in other ways…* "…well they sortof flash yellow…"  
  
  
  
Buffy was convinced that she could hear the sound of Giles actually dropping the glasses he was no doubt already polishing in consternation.  
  
  
  
"…no definitely yellow, like little flames," There was a distinct note of fondness in Spike's voice as he said that, contrasted with undoubted semi- panic going through the voice at the other end of the trans-Atlantic phone call.  
  
"No Rupe, still Buffy eyes, just with golden–type flaming…No, not demon eyes." Spike was starting to lose patience. It wasn't that big a deal.  
  
Mindyou when the whelp had seen it that time at the Magic Box, when Buffy got more than a little wound up during a 'discussion' with the Scoobies about accepting Spike and her, his eyes had nearly popped right out of their sockets. *Blimey that'd been priceless!*  
  
  
  
Buffy screwed up her face. Oh god, she knew Giles was gonna lose it. He'd probably be on the next flight. She picked up her courage and took the phone off Spike.  
  
  
  
"Giles, hi. Look, no, really I'm fine. We just wondered if maybe you could explain it a bit, or if you maybe had any books, 'cause Willow's kinda exhausted all the ones we could find, and the internet's been pretty low on info'… No, I appreciate that Giles…"  
  
  
  
*Oh god, he's doing his 'concerned' voice, sure to be followed by a 'you should know better' voice and a round off with a 'I despair of you' sigh.*  
  
She hated to upset him, hated to disappoint him. Knew she continually perplexed him. If he was going to get angry and disapproving she was going to have to hang up and try again later. It was hard enough when he was there in the room having difficult discussions, *and god knows there's been enough of them over the years…*.  
  
  
  
"…Oh…" Buffy's face looked as though it was about to crumple. Spike gave a low growl and snatched the phone away. He was on the point of saying something he'd regret when he caught Buffy's eyes. Damn it, she was too concerned with the Watcher's approval of her.  
  
  
  
"What the hell did you say to her?…NO that's not it. Bloody hell, Rupert have some compassion for the chit, she doesn't need you suggesting that she's turning……No, I'm very certain that's not it……Well I think I'd know mate…" He was about to suggest testing it with a cross and some holy water, but Buffy looked as though she wouldn't take that as a joke at this point.  
  
  
  
Buffy was resting her forehead on his shoulder. He wasn't going to let her watcher, *ex-watcher*, upset her like this. Bound to be a bit different claiming with a slayer. Hadn't counted on this transference business, but as far as he could see it was all to the good wasn't it?  
  
  
  
"Well what's a bit of eye-colour between friends?……Yes that was a joke……No, well you could lighten up a bit mate……No, well she's never been ordinary has she?" *Wasn't that rather the point?* "No I appreciate that……well it p'robly does mean something…doesn't have to be bad though does it?" There was hint of a plea in that.  
  
Buffy raised her head to try to hear what Giles was saying. Something about 'Irregular wasn't the word' and 'The Council were most unlikely to forthcoming on the subject'. No, the Council never were, not when she actually needed their help.  
  
Spike gave another exaggerated sigh. "No, well I have faith you'll come up with something to stop her fretting like this……okay, bye Rupes."  
  
He lowered the phone reluctantly to Buffy.  
  
  
  
"Buffy, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sure it's perfectly explicable, although I can't imagine there are going to be many sources of reference."  
  
"Giles I'm really not going to turn, it's a totally different thing you know." Buffy tried not to sound too anxious, tried to hide the fact that she was a little too strung out to take harsh words from him right now. She needed his support.  
  
"Yes I'm sure you're right Buffy. Indeed from all I have ever read on the subject of claiming I am well aware of the disparity. I can't say I'm overconfident that I shall have much luck in finding many accounts of such incidences, certainly not involving a slayer."  
  
  
  
*It would be his slayer though wouldn't it? Typical.*  
  
He was very fond of her, loved her like the daughter he never had, but honestly, sometimes she completely knocked him for six. He couldn't begin to understand her motivation for such behaviour.  
  
*Again. A vampire, again.*  
  
  
  
Buffy heard him sigh down the wire.  
  
"Giles…"  
  
"Buffy, I can't pretend I even begin to understand your behaviour,"  
  
*Uhoh, there's that word.*  
  
"But I need to know. Are you happy?"  
  
*Oh,* she hadn't actually seen that coming. Her shoulders lifted. She always expected his condemnation and forgot his prime concern was always her.  
  
"Yes, Oh Giles, really. I know it can't make any sort of sense to you, but…"  
  
Giles interrupted. "Well that's the main thing Buffy. You know that's all I really care about," *as long as she's happy and safe.*  
  
  
  
For some reason unfathomable even to himself, Giles trusted Spike with Buffy. Her judgement with men wasn't always impeccable but it was folly to try to stand in her way. On anything really if he admitted it.  
  
Of course he'd attempted to intervene when he'd first seen the sparks fly between the two. Had tried to deter Spike's efforts to reach Buffy. But when she had begun to rely on him against Glory, he was in no position to countermand it, and he'd actually been surprised to find that Spike had proved worthy of their trust. Had been moved, against his will, by the grief he had shown when Buffy died and his determination to continue helping the Scoobies, to take care of Dawn, to fulfil his promise with no hope of reward.  
  
And when she'd come back, she'd seemed the shell of her former self and Giles had despaired of ever seeing the old Buffy back, happy and functioning properly as a person as well as a slayer. He couldn't bring her round, and although she'd leaned on him, he knew she wasn't really talking to him about what was going on. So if the person she had turned to was Spike, he couldn't really argue with it in the end. He'd suspected that it was something more than that after he left, and when Buffy had finally called him (at three in the morning GMT) to talk about it he couldn't pretend to be surprised.  
  
Which wasn't true of the phone call he'd received just over a month ago regarding the claim. (Again in the early hours of the morning. Really, it didn't matter how many times he'd tried to explain the time difference rule to them all…)  
  
Of course by the time she'd called, the claim was a fait acompli so it was somewhat pointless protesting. That girl would be the end of him.  
  
  
  
"I am happy Giles."  
  
  
  
And she sounded it, despite her concerns regarding the transferences, she still sounded happier and healthier than she had in a hell of a long time. And god knows she deserved it.  
  
  
  
"If that's the case Buffy, then, well, I'd try not to lose any more sleep about it. Perhaps Spike is correct," *never that I'd be saying those particular words,* "and this is quite benign, and the other aspects could prove advantageous when it comes to slaying."  
  
"I think it must be, Giles." He heard the relief flood through her voice. "It doesn't feel 'of the bad' you know?"  
  
* 'Of the bad?' Why can't they just speak English?*  
  
"Well we shall remain positive then. Perhaps you could ask Willow to telephone me and I could direct her research towards a few books I left with Anya?……Buffy?" He could hear something mumbled from Spike and then something else from Buffy he didn't quite catch. Muffled sounds.  
  
"What? Oh yeah Giles, sure, I'll get Willow to call you."  
  
"And if you could remind her that we are 8 hours ahead in England?"  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"Buffy are you even listening?" *Really, why on earth can't they just wait to get off the phone first?*  
  
"Trying to." A muffled yelp from Spike in the background. "Sorry Giles, what was that?"  
  
"Just ask Willow to give me a bell will you?"  
  
"You mean to telephone you?"  
  
"Yes." *Honesty, I have to cope with their mangling of the English language…*  
  
"No problemo. Oh and Giles?" Buffy couldn't help but smile, "You know that glasses cleaning trick really can't work over the phone can it?"  
  
  
  
**********************  
  
  
  
Several thousands of miles away in a small neat flat in Bath, in a room surrounded by curious artefacts and even curiouser books, Giles replaced his glasses and shook his head in defeat; he just knew that back in the Summers' kitchen Spike was smirking.  
  
  
  
**********************  
  
  
  
Buffy walked over and hung up the phone. She stretched her arms out over her head and then down behind her back.  
  
"Phewf, wow, glad that's over with."  
  
Spike was by her in an instant, pulling her into his embrace. He was more relieved than he cared to admit that it had gone reasonably well with the watcher.  
  
Buffy leant her forehead against his cool cheek. Taking a moment.  
  
"Yup, just one more bridge crossed in the city of Venice," she sighed.  
  
  
  
*Phew, well that's done, anyway.* She'd spent way too long procrastinating about how to handle telling Giles.  
  
*Spike was right just to put it to him straight. Guess this is just another thing Giles is gonna have to edit out from the version of the watcher's files that finally reaches the mahogany desks of the Watcher's Council.*  
  
She'd got herself all tied up in knots about it. It was good to have it out. Between them Giles and Willow in research mode would come up with something. Hopefully something reassuring. Something to settle her doubts.  
  
  
  
*Settle. Ugh, not settled.*  
  
  
  
Buffy stepped away from Spike, closed her eyes for a second, then turned and sprinted from the room and up the stairs.  
  
  
  
Spike, got a glass of water and made his way into the living room. Set the glass down on the coffee table and sat down on the couch. Waited a minute.  
  
He listened for a second then yelled, "Buffy, are you alright pet? Do you want…"  
  
Buffy emerged on the stairs, walking down them considerably more slowly than she had ascended them a moment or two ago. She looked decidedly off- colour.  
  
"Ugh," was all she could say.  
  
She slumped down on the couch by Spike, who handed her the glass of water. She sipped it slowly and repeated, "ugh." Closed her eyes and sank back.  
  
Spike sat sideways, considering her. Gently pushed her hair away from her face. She handed him back the glass and looked at him. "Ugh!"  
  
"Yeah love, I think you said that already." He smiled at her. *Poor lass, this bit's no fun is it?*  
  
"So would this be: this?" he motioned towards the kitchen where the telephone conversation had taken place. "Or the other?"  
  
"Most definitely the other," she groaned.  
  
Spike sat back and Buffy leaned in to rest against him.  
  
"So you don't think it might have been a good idea to have told him then?"  
  
Buffy smiled weakly. "No, I think one heart attack a day is quite enough don't you?" 


End file.
